


New Year, New Life

by Quickspinner



Series: New Beginnings [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: A little sequel toAll I Want for Christmas is a New BeginningIt's been a year since a certain cute elf met a certain hot single uncle waiting in line to bring his niece to see Santa. A year since she ran away from him and fate--or rather Juleka--brought them back together again. A year since they kissed at midnight after Alya's annual New Year's party.It's once again time for Alya's New Year's party, and with all the possibilities of a brand new year before them, Marinette and Luka can't help but be excited about it.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: New Beginnings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083203
Comments: 17
Kudos: 76
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	New Year, New Life

**Author's Note:**

> Technically I feel like I should be posting this tomorrow, but the challenge closes today, so Happy New Year just a little bit early. The prompt was "New Year’s party with a New Year’s kiss" and it seemed like the perfect chance to revisit these two. You don't really HAVE to have read the previous fic to get this one, but it will have a little more context and impact if you do.

It was amazing how many things could change in a year, Marinette thought, grinning up at Luka and leaning back into him as they moved together with practice ease. Just like last year, he had joined her at Alya’s annual party after playing his own New Year’s gig, in the same ballroom of the Grand Paris that Alya had rented last year. As soon as he’d arrived and done the obligatory greeting and handshakes and bises where necessary, he’d coaxed her to the dance with him, just like that first time. It was easy to agree; after a year of dating him, she was no longer awkward on the dance floor. They swayed and rolled and dipped together, both grinning and neither with eyes for anyone but each other. His hands on her body were not so light or hesitant as they’d once been, and frequently they were not so carefully respectful anymore either. She bumped her hip into him and gave him a pout for teasing her, which just made him lean down and catch her mouth in a brief kiss. 

Marinette giggled and faced him, sliding her arms up around his neck as his hands found her waist and pulled her close.

“Hey!” Alya yelled as she danced past them, one hand holding a drink as the other waved in the air. “No making out on the dance floor!”

“Since when?” Marinette hollered after her, and then pulled Luka down for a prolonged kiss, just to make her point. He tasted like champagne, and Marinette had to stop kissing him because she couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I”m almost sorry this year is ending,” she told him, rubbing a hand along his arm tenderly. Luka gathered her up in a hug, and then dropped his arm to slide around her waist, guiding her off the dance floor. They wandered together towards the windows, cuddling together as they looked out over the city lights. 

“I love you,” Luka murmured, and the words still gave her a little shiver. She pressed closer to him.

“I love you too,” she sighed happily. 

“It has been a spectacular year,” Luka continued, squeezing her hip. “But I gotta say that I’m looking forward to this year even more.” 

Marinette hummed and looked up at him. “Why’s that?”

Luka took a deep breath, glancing back behind him as he slipped a hand in his pocket. Curving his body towards her slightly so no one else could see, he held up the small velvet box between them.

Marinette stared at the box for a stupefied moment, and then her eyes snapped up to his. A smile quirked the edge of his mouth, and he nodded at her with a soft look. Slowly she took the box, turning slightly towards him as well as she opened it to further shield them from the party. The ring nestled inside removed any doubt as to what was going on. She stared at it, overcome.

“I’d get down on one knee but I’m pretty sure that would give us away,” Luka murmured. “Marinette, this has been the best year of my life, and I want every year from now on to be just like it. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” Marinette managed to gasp, and Luka plucked the ring out of the box, taking it with his other hand and snapping it shut, popping it back in his pocket before anyone else could see. As calm and smooth as he appeared, his hands were shaking when he took Marinette’s hand and carefully, deliberately slid the ring on her finger. As soon as it was there, Marinette pressed against him, burying her face in his chest. She could feel him taking slow, deep breaths with extended exhales, and smiled to herself. He was a cool customer, her Luka, but she knew his cues now. He’d been nervous as hell. She stayed there until her own jumbled nerves were settled and his breathing was more normal. Then she looked up at him, and as soon as her face was tilted high enough, he bent down and kissed her, slow and deep, and his heart fluttered wildly under the hands she placed on his chest. 

“It’s not midnight yet!” Alya called, and they both turned to see her approach. 

“Traditions are for the weak, Césaire,” Luka called back, grinning fit to split his face. Marinette opened her mouth to get rid of her dearest friend, but before she had a chance, Alya let out a shriek.

“ _ MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”  _

Before Marinette could blink, Alya was at her side, grabbing at her left hand. Marinette flushed deeply and behind her Luka chuckled. She looked up at him, and he shrugged, though a blush was painting his cheeks as well. 

“How could you not tell me?” Alya said, examining the ring.

“I haven’t had  _ time _ ,” Marinette snorted, snatching her hand back. “Way to ruin the moment, Alya.” 

“Now?” Alya gaped, looking up between them. Then she recovered and put a hand on her cocked hip. “Really, Couffaine? You couldn’t wait until midnight?”

“Nope,” Luka said easily, without shame. “Gotta seize the moment when it comes.” He winked at Marinette. “Besides, now I get to kiss my fiancée at midnight.” 

Marinette turned bright red and felt as if there were no air in the room. She hadn’t even had time to process and then he had to go and say  _ that _ . Alya burst out laughing and shoved Marinette back into Luka’s arms. They folded around her and squeezed, and she snuggled close. 

“All right, all right,” Alya laughed, “I'll keep the secret a little longer so you two can have your moment, but I’m making an announcement at midnight and you two are going to smooch in front of  _ everybody _ . If you’re going to upstage my party you’d better do it right!”

When she was gone, Marinette sighed, resting her chin on Luka’s chest and peeking up at him. “Sorry,” he smiled. “Maybe I should have waited until we were alone, but it just...seemed like the right time.” 

Marinette smiled, and then lifted her head to kiss his chin. “It was. It was perfect.” 

“If it’s too soon, you can tell me,” Luka said, squeezing her lightly. “It’s not a one-time offer. You don’t have to wear it if you’re not ready. Or you can wear it for as long as you want to, and we don’t have to set a date until—”

Marinette rolled her eyes, straightened, and took his face between her hands. “Luka. I’m ready. I want to marry you.” 

He flushed at that, and the grin on his face was so wide and boyish and so unlike his usual smooth smirk, that she had to laugh. “Silly,” she muttered as he pulled her close again.

Luka shrugged. “It’s not like the first time I jumped the gun. I don’t want you suddenly freaking out and making a run for it on me again,” he teased. 

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, too outraged to even scold him properly. “Oh, you—argh!” She drew back and whacked his arm, but she did it with her left hand, which just drew her eyes back to the glittering stone on her finger—wow, it was sparkly, no wonder Alya had noticed it right away—and then she was all smiles again.

“Dance with me some more,” Luka urged, catching both her hands in his and tugging her after him. 

Marinette joined him gladly, and maybe her eyes kept straying to that sparkle where her hand rested on his shoulder, and maybe his hand kept sliding up her arm to caress her fingers or hold her hand to his chest, and maybe for once midnight came a little too soon for either of them.

A few minutes before midnight, their attention was drawn from each other to Alya, who had gotten a microphone from Nino and climbed up on a table. 

“Everybody ready for the countdown?” she hollered, and there was a chorus of cheers. “Marinette and Luka, get up here.” 

Marinette groaned, but took Luka’s hand and led him toward Alya’s table, accepting the inevitable. 

“Hold up that hand, Marinette, and flash us all that rock!” Alya demanded, leaning down to grab Marinette’s wrist and wave her ringed hand in the air. “Check it out, folks, and remember you heard it here first! These two lovebirds are tying the knot. Max, who wins the pool?” 

Marinette snatched her hand back, her mouth dropping open in outrage. “ _ Pool? _ ”

“Yep,” Alya grinned. “Been running since June. So who picked New Year’s Eve?”

Markov flew up to Alya’s side and she held out the microphone for the little robot. 

“The winner of the Couffaine-Dupain-Cheng engagement pool is Jonathon C.” 

Alya frowned, pulling the microphone back. “Okay, who’s—”

Luka coughed, behind Marinette. “That would be me.” Marinette turned to stare at him, and he winked at her. “Luka Jonathan Couffaine.” 

“Oh you filthy cheater,” Alya screeched, kicking him and nearly falling off the table. “How did you even— _ Max _ ?”

Max held up his hands, but no one could hear him over the uproar. 

“He filled out the web form with all the pertinent information,” Markov observed. “There is no rule excluding Luka from participating, nor any rule against using a middle name for registration. Luka’s entry is valid. I shall transfer the appropriate amount to the account you designated.”

“Thanks, Markov,” Luka said, and the pure Couffaine shit-eating grin on his face robbed Marinette of any ability to be mad at him. “I appreciate you all funding the ring.” 

Alya groaned. “Oh my G—okay, you know what, the countdown’s about to start, so you two get up here. I expect one world class smooch for that, Couffaine.” 

“Sorry, Alya, I’m in a very committed relationship,” Luka laughed, but while Alya scowled at him and insisted he knew what she meant, he pulled over a chair and graciously offered his hand to help her down from the table. Then he helped Marinette up, and carefully joined her. 

“I hope these tables are sturdy,” Marinette muttered under her breath as the countdown began.

“So what kind of a show are we making here?” Luka asked her, raising his eyebrows.

Marinette smirked at him. “I’ll handle it. Just put your arms around my neck and don’t struggle or we’re both going to fall off this thing.”

Luka’s eyebrows lifted higher but there was no time for more questions. 

“Five,” the crowd screamed, waving their champagne glasses. "Four!"

“Three,” Marinette murmured, her eyes fixed on Luka. “Two.” She hooked one leg behind his knee and put her arms around his waist. He put his arms around her neck as she’d instructed. “One.” 

She dipped him back over her thigh. “Whoa!” Luka gasped, and then grinned, and leaned up so she could reach him, and the crowd roared “Happy New Year,” as they kissed, oblivious to both the cheering and the camera flashes going off all around them. 

Later, they would watch the year’s first sunrise together through the windows, pressed tight under a blanket on the couch, and sit quietly with the gravity of all that had passed, in the contentment of each other’s company. 

But just as that moment, the fireworks and cheers and celebration seemed a perfect background to a kiss that went on until Marinette’s trembling arms forced her to break it. Luka laughed breathlessly as she hauled him up, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“You’re amazing,” he told her, as the music resumed. He got down from the table, and then reached up to catch her waist and lift her down beside him. 

“Think Alya will be satisfied?” Marinette giggled. 

“If she’s not, I’m more than happy to try a do-over,” Luka grinned, and then lowered his forehead to hers. “I love you.” 

Marinette smiled, cupping his cheek. “Happy New Year, Luka.”

“Happy new life, Marinette.” 


End file.
